


What we below could not see

by Teaotter



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Holly Poly, Multi, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-06
Updated: 2015-01-06
Packaged: 2018-03-06 08:09:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3127310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teaotter/pseuds/Teaotter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What it takes to stay together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What we below could not see

**Author's Note:**

  * For [toucanpie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/toucanpie/gifts).



> Over the land freckled with snow half-thawed  
> The speculating rooks at their nests cawed  
> And saw from elm-tops, delicate as flowers of grass,  
> What we below could not see, Winter pass. 
> 
> \- Edward Thomas

It ends on a Tuesday, six months after Sarah and her sisters finally got out from under Dyad, finally got Helena back, finally got their lives back. The legal ramifications were still working their way through the courts, but for the moment, everything was perfect. It had been just long enough for Sarah to let her guard down a little. It was a delicate balance, spending time with Cal and Kira and still seeing Paul. She knew she was shite at delicate for the long-term, but it was working, and had just started feeling like it wouldn't break if she breathed wrong.

But then...this. Cal stands on the sidewalk in a nice neighborhood, in front of a nice house with trees and a lawn. He has that puppy-dog look in his blue eyes, like he's waiting for her approval. He's dressed in his usual henley and jeans, his beard just scruffy enough to keep him from looking like he stepped out of a magazine ad. Instead, he just looks like he belongs in a place like this. Nice. Normal.

“What do you think?” he asks again.

“It's a house,” Sarah says flatly. She smooths back her dark hair and settles her black leather jacket more firmly around her shoulders like armor. She doesn't belong here; it's not her kind of place. It's the beginning of the end is what it is, and she's not going to pretend to be happy about that. 

“Well, yes, it's a house.” Cal laughs a little, nervously, and heads down the front walk, and there's nothing Sarah can do but follow him. “It's got four bedrooms,” he says as he reaches the front door and -- unlocks it with a key. “And room to put a swingset in the back yard.”

He already has a key, dangling from the ring he always carries. He's already rented it; he's already planning his happy little family fantasies in his mind. Sarah grits her teeth and steps inside. “Kira likes going to the park.”

It's a beautiful house. Nothing like Paul's new place, with it's thick brick walls and scarred wood paneling. Paul's place feels like a fortress. Here, sunlight streams in the windows; warm and open and airy as laughter. There's a fireplace in the family room, and Sarah can't help imagining a Christmas tree in the corner and stockings hung on the mantel. Cal cooking in the kitchen, a towel slung over one shoulder, and Kira sitting at an old kitchen table, folding paper animals. It makes her heart ache, because she's never going to have that.

The real Cal -- the one who's trying to talk her into settling down with him, the one who just doesn't get it -- brings her attention back to the present. “It's in a good school district,” he says, just a hint of stubbornness in his voice.

Sarah's had enough. “Look, I know you want to do right by Kira and all --”

“I just thought we could use something a little bigger than the RV, now that we don't need to be able to run away at the drop of a hat.” Sunlight shines like a halo around his dark hair, and Sarah has to turn away.

“I'm not gonna move in and play house with you,” she says, to the blank white wall as much as to him.

So she's surprised when he laughs. It fills the room as naturally as she'd imagined. “I never thought you would.”

“What?” Sarah spins around, her emotions bouncing between affronted and confused. “Then what's all this?”

“I want it. For me. The house, the stability. I need to put down roots.” Cal takes both her hands in his. She's quivering like a bird. “I'd like it to be a place you can bring Kira. That you'd feel comfortable bringing Kira.”

“I don't do...” Sarah can't really fill in a word, and eventually, she just shrugs. She's still waiting for Cal to issue the ultimatum -- the one she's been waiting to hear since all of the shite with Dyad finally ended. Stop seeing Paul. Stop being -- different. It's fucking hilarious that she's the clone, and all her life she's never found a single place she fit in.

“I know.” Cal gives her a tiny, tense smile. “Is this where I point out that we're only half a mile from Paul's place?”

“Yeah, about that.” Not that Sarah had noticed, but now that he's pointing it out, this house is even closer to Paul's than Felix's place. It doesn't make any sense, and Sarah finds herself searching Cal's face, trying to read his intentions.

“I'm not asking for anything to change.” He lets her look at him, clearly trying to sell her on this. She just can't tell if he's honest about it. “I'm not asking you to change.”

But maybe he is. God knows he's less of a liar than anyone else in Sarah's life. 

She leans into him, and he wraps his arms around her like it's everything he's ever wanted. He feels like the most solid thing in the world. Trustworthy. If it's an illusion, she'll just have to hate herself later.

“I'm not going to be anyone else,” she warns him, but the sun is warm on her back and his breath is warm against her ear and she can admit to herself that she wants this, too.

She can feel the tension seep out of Cal. He kisses her temple softly, and murmurs back. “Good. I wouldn't want you to be.”

\---

Paul takes them out of the city. It's a nice day for a drive, with the winter sun thin in the air. Leafless trees and the shadows of pines flicker against the sky as they pass.

Cal tried small talk early on, but Paul answered politely and didn't pick up his end of it, and eventually Cal let it go. They've fallen into a fairly companionable silence, for all he has no idea why he's here.

Things between the three of them -- him and Sarah, Paul and Sarah -- have been on a pretty even keel since Cal bought the house a couple of months ago. Kira has mostly moved into her bedroom; Sarah is still going back and forth between Cal's place and Paul's, but she's crashing less and less with Felix. Cal thinks that's a good thing. Kira has even warmed to him enough to call him Uncle Paul, and sometimes she and Sarah take Paul to the park. 

Cal and Paul are the empty arm of the triangle. They don't talk directly much, but then again, there hasn't been the waves of animosity Cal felt early on. Paul hasn't made any overtures, and Cal hasn't pushed. He figures Paul's happier that way. Some guys don't want to know the other man their girlfriend is screwing, and that's fine. Cal's not going to rock the boat.

But then Paul comes by this morning and asks to take him for a drive while Kira's in school, and Cal can't help but wonder what Paul has to say. Cal glances over from time to time, trying to figure it out; Paul either doesn't notice or doesn't mind. He certainly doesn't say anything.

Paul finally pulls off the road on the edge of some farmer's field, burned brown and sere. As far as Cal can see, there is nothing for half a mile in any direction, not even trees. When he opens the door, a cold wind seeps in around the edges of his jacket and shivers down the back of his neck.

Paul puts a hand on his arm to stop him from getting out. “Leave your phone in the car.”

Paul's hand is warm even through the leather glove; Cal thinks it might be the first time Paul's touched him voluntarily. “Why?”

Paul just gives him a patient look, unmoving. Since Cal's still more curious than anything else, he takes his phone from his pocket and leaves it on the seat. 

He follows Paul away from the car. There is the quiet, low hum of an engine in the distance, and crows calling in the trees on the edge of the field. The chill seeps in slowly, as their breath makes puffs of fog in the air.

“Where are we?” Cal asks when Paul finally comes to a halt.

“Somewhere we can talk safely,” Paul answers, still with that same patient, neutral look.

Cal can't help tensing and glancing over his shoulder at the car automatically.

“No, I haven't found any surveillance.” Paul gives him a tight smile. “I'm just being cautious.”

Cal shoves his hands deep into the pockets of his coat and makes himself relax. He still has the nightmares: soldiers coming for Sarah, black-clad men taking Kira in the night, while he's standing by, helpless to stop them. Truth be told, he still has back-up plans in place, in case they do have to run again. But he tries not to think about that, most of the time. “So what are we doing out here?”

Paul cocks his head slightly and it reminds Cal of the crows he can hear calling from the trees. His eyes are just as blank. “I was surprised when you decided to stick around.”

“Jealous?” The taunt comes out of his mouth automatically, and he can feel a flush climbing up his neck. He's supposed to be better than that, but right now he just wants to get some kind of reaction from Paul --

“A little.” Paul's smile drops away with the admission. “But you're good for her. Good for both of them, really.”

Cal waits a moment for the rest of whatever Paul is trying to say, but the other man doesn't fill it in. With a pang, Cal realizes that this is probably the most personal conversation they've ever had -- and it sounds like goodbye. “Don't tell me you've decided to bow out.”

It gets him a real laugh, if quickly stifled. “I don't think that's possible for me, at this point.”

“Good.” Cal means it. He's surprised by how much he means it. “Sarah's got a big heart.”

Paul searches his face, then nods slowly. “She does. But you and I both know she's not very practical.”

“I'm not following you.”

“I have money set aside in a series of offshore accounts. I'm going to give you the account numbers, which I want you to memorize.” Paul turns away, shadows falling across his face and making him even more difficult to read than usual. Which is ridiculous, even more ridiculous than the offer of money, because this whole conversation is practically a declaration --

It suddenly occurs to Cal that Paul may not be hiding on purpose. That it may be hard-wired into him by now. The army might've turned Paul into a spy, but no one gets that good at it without something terrible in their past, something that hurt so badly that they just shut everyone out.

Maybe Paul doesn't know how to let them back in.

“We don't need your money,” Cal says. It comes out much more gently than he originally intended.

“It's for Kira.” Paul turns entirely away from him, the lines of his shoulders perfectly smooth, but not at all relaxed. “If anything happens to me, or to Sarah... She needs to be protected.”

Cal reaches out to lay his hand on Paul's shoulder. He can feel the sharp tension even through Paul's thick wool coat. “She will be.”

Paul nods, but doesn't turn back around. He doesn't move out from under Cal's hand, either. “Untraceable cash can help with that.”

The crows are still calling in the distance, but Cal doesn't see the resemblance any more. Paul is more like a stray cat, kicked one too many times. Dangerous, if you move too quickly, but yearning to come inside.

Cal files the thought away for later. He's good with cats, and people who need to be able to wander in and out of his life, or he wouldn't be with Sarah at all. Paul, he thinks, might take a little more convincing.

But for right now, he just squeezes Paul's shoulder briefly, companionably, and lets go before it can get awkward. “I'm glad you've got our backs.”

\---

The windows of Cal's home are filled with light. Paul sits in his car for a moment, the engine ticking as it cools, and watches silhouettes move behind the curtains. One is Cal's height; another has the curve of Sarah's neck. He can see Felix's sway, and the dart of movement that can only be Kira. In his mind, they make a picture of perfect domesticity.

Paul wonders what it would be like if he were a different person. If he hadn't betrayed Sarah to Dyad, if he hadn't threatened Felix. If he hadn't been the kind of person who could earn trust only to betray it. Sarah understands him, he thinks, but he doubts if the rest will ever forgive him. And even if they did, Paul isn't sure he knows how to be a part of something so... normal. Not any more.

He grabs the movie that Kira asked for on the phone and makes his way to the door. The snow on the ground won't be there much longer; the dripping sound of thaw mixes with distant traffic and a sudden burst of laughter as he reaches the door.

Sarah answers his knock, laughter still written broad across her face. Paul feels a sharp ache at seeing her happy; he's pretty sure it's what most people call love. He hadn't thought he'd ever feel it again, until he met her, and it strikes him every single time he sees her.

He's used to covering it by now.

“Paul.” Sarah smiles and holds the door open, leaving room for him to come in. “Did you bring the movie?”

He holds up the movie instead. “Kira said you weren't feeling well?”

“Uncle Paul!” Kira ducks under Sarah's arm and smiles up at him. She is dressed in blue pajamas with teddy bears all over them, her heart-shaped face practically glowing with happiness. Paul expects her to take the movie from his hand; she grabs his sleeve instead and drags him inside. “You're just in time. Daddy's making popcorn.”

Paul feels a smile take his face -- perfect, friendly, fake -- and it makes his heart seize up. He doesn't want to be false with these people, doesn't want to lie to them.

But Kira doesn't seem to notice, and Paul manages to smooth out his expression before Cal comes over to take his coat. Cal's big hands land on Paul's shoulders, warm even through the thick wool of his coat. It's friendly, insistent, and vaguely terrifying.

“No, that's okay --” Paul starts, but Cal talks over him.

“Come on in,” he says, tugging again on Paul's coat. “We're just getting set up.”

Cal finally stops when it's clear that Paul doesn't intend to cooperate.

Sarah scoops Kira up into her arms, and conveniently out of the way. “Did you forget to tell Uncle Paul that he was invited to stay and watch the movie?” she asks the little girl, who squirms enough to look over Sarah's shoulder at Paul.

“I'm sorry, Uncle Paul,” Kira says, ducking her face as if she's bashful, but it doesn't hide her smile. “I didn't want you to say no.”

“Hmm.” Sarah balances Kira on her hip and glances apologetically at Paul. “You really are welcome.”

Paul glances further in, where Felix is settled on the couch and watching them unashamedly. “I shouldn't --”

“Of course you should. It's Kira's favorite movie.” Cal tugs again on his coat, and Paul belatedly realizes that the whole scene is some kind of ridiculous ambush. They lured him over here, knowing he wouldn't turn down Kira's request for the movie, and now they -- what? Want him to sit in the family room and watch it with them?

Felix suddenly laughs and unfolds himself from the couch. “Well, far be it from me to horn in on date night,” he says archly, and grabs his coat from the hook in the hallway.

“It's not a date.” Sarah slaps his shoulder as he goes by, but she doesn't try to stop him.

Which says more about what this is than anything else so far.

“No, I'll go,” Paul says, finally pulling away from Cal and edging back toward the door. “You three, enjoy the movie.”

“I don't think so.” Felix snatches at Paul's scarf and wraps it around his own neck before Paul can react. “Mmm, is this cashmere? Niiiice. Anyway, I have a hot date of my own tonight, and it's _not_ with Walt Disney.”

Felix kisses Kira on the cheek and ducks out the door, somehow maneuvering everyone so that Paul is farthest inside. Paul isn't entirely sure what just happened, but he knows that any chance he had of leaving without making a scene just walked out the door with Felix.

Cal clears his throat. “We'd really like you to stay.”

“Yeah.” Sarah looks at him, waiting, and Kira ducks her face into her mother's dark hair, clearly trying to be as small and unobtrusive as possible.

Paul knows they'd let him go. He thinks it wouldn't even break anything; he could still see Sarah on Friday, and she'd go home to Cal on Sunday, and they'd all go on like it never happened.

But the idea of it -- of letting Cal take his coat, of sitting next to Sarah on the couch, even having Kira climb into his lap and fall asleep during the move... he wants that. The lamplight and the laughter and the home that they have here, he wants all of that. He doesn't know how to get it, but he wants it.

“All right,” he says slowly, and watches the happiness spill across Sarah's face, to be echoed in Kira's and Cal's smiles.

Paul thinks that maybe he just has to stand still enough to let them give it to him.


End file.
